Mr. Leigh's face darkened. "I must see to this," he said, speaking apparently to himself; then added, "Trust me, Mrs. Mortomley, I will do all in my power for you. I am afraid you have made one false step, but we must try to remedy it as far as possible. In the meantime most certainly I should get Mr. Mortomley away for a time. The state of his health complicates matters very much. Have you—excuse the question, but I know how suddenly these things sometimes come upon men of business—have you money?"
"Yes, thank you," she answered. "I have enough for the present; at least, Rupert has money of mine, and I can get it from him."
"And you will try to remove Mr. Mortomley," he went on, "and pray let me hear from you, and send me your address. Do not be so despondent, Mrs. Mortomley. Only get your husband well and everything will yet be right."
She smiled, but shook her head incredulously.
"You are very kind, Mr. Leigh," she said, "and I only hope your pleasant words may prove true prophecies. If they do not, when once we know the worst, whatever that may prove, we must try to bear it. I think we shall be able," added Dolly a little defiantly, drawing herself up about a quarter of an inch. She was so little she had generally to go about the world stretched out as much as possible.
"She is not a bad specimen of a woman, if she only knew how to dress herself suitably," thought Mr. Leigh after her departure, "but I am afraid she is not the wife poor Mortomley ought to have had at a crisis like this."
Which was really very hard upon Dolly, who had not the slightest intention of ever reproaching Mortomley—as a model wife might have done—because of the ruin that had come upon them.
Rather she was considering as she walked to Fenchurch Street how she should keep knowledge of this latest misfortune from him.